Compass
by t.j.guard
Summary: First in a series. The girl Riley meets twice in Book of Secrets turns out to have some secrets, and they seem to revolve around an old compass and a family legacy, and certainly no one sees it coming. Riley/OC-sort of
1. Chapter 1

Compass

Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure

A/N: starts just after Book of Secrets (Pardon the inaccuracies, but apparently the movies are riddled with them, so yeah...)  
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Chapter One

"Riley Poole?" the redhead he didn't know the name of asked, and Riley looked up and smiled.

He got to his feet, held out his hand, and asked, "Wanna dance?"

"Sure."

"Hey, uh, what's your name?"

"Andy Jones." Riley and Andy danced through song after song, exchanging small talk in whispers and giggling over what they said to each other, and when he finally led her off the dance floor, her phone rang. "Hold on, I need to take this." She fished her phone out of her purse and walked out to the fringes of the party, not even checking the caller ID before answering. "Hello?"

Riley hung back as Andy said, "Yeah...uh-huh..." and there was a pause then, long enough for him to wonder if she had an American accent or a British one when she spoke to the man on the other end of the line, given the distance she placed between them when she walked over to answer the phone. Riley thought the phone would slip right out of her hand and fall to the floor, her grip on it was that loose. "Did you just say he was in a prison riot?" She paused again, and her worry was becoming more apparent. "And now he's in the hospital? How bad is it?"

She struggled to maintain the tone of her voice as the doctor on the other end described her brother's condition, how he was a bystander who got caught in the violence, and anything else she asked about. Finally, after all the explaining was done, she said, "Thank you," and hung up.

Riley was waiting patiently right at the fringes of the party when Andy turned to face him. "It's my brother," she said. "I really need to go, but if you give me your number, I'll let you know if everything's okay."

"Uh...yeah, okay." He gave her a series of digits, which she typed into her phone and saved under the name 'Riley Poole'. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, thanks. I need to go alone."

Andy wove her way through the croud and out to the parking lot. She pulled her keys out of her purse and unlocked the silver sedan in the third row in the slot closest to the lamp post. She pulled out and drove down several blocks, took a few turns, drove down a few more blocks, and pulled into the parking lot of the Washington, D.C., Mercy Hospital. She climbed out of the sedan, locked it behind her and walked into the waiting room.

"May I help you?" the blond, female receptionist asked.

She dropped the name Andy Jones and the accompanying American accent altogether when she replied. "I'm Tanya Howe. I just got word my brother has been admitted, so I came here to see him."

"Do you have any ID?" Tanya produced a passport and a UK identification card and handed them to the receptionist, who looked them both over carefully before adding, "He's on the third floor, in room three eighty."

"Thank you." She took her passport and ID card back, put them back in her purse, and made her way up to room three hundred eighty. A doctor met her outside the door, and she asked, "Do you know how he is?"

"Just fine," the doctor replied. "Still asleep, but just fine."

"May I?" she asked, gesturing toward the door. The doctor nodded, and she walked through the door.

The blond man in the hospital gown lying unconscious on the hospital bed with an IV linking his blood stream to an unknown, though clear, fluid was almost unidentifiable, a John Doe. Half of his face and most of his neck were covered by a giant dark purple bruise, she could tell his breathing was strained, as if it were restricted by something, and as she took a few steps toward him, she could see that he had several cuts on his face and arms.

But she did recognize him, and she could identify him. "Ian," she whispered.

Another man walked into the room. He was dressed up in a nice suit and looked like any other man with a stable job that one would see in a business district talking on a cell phone on his way to work. "Agent Peter Sadusky, of the FBI," he said, holding his hand out to her.

For a second, Tanya paused, wondering which identity to use. He didn't seem like someone who would betray her, but then, so did a lot of peope she remembered from her past. After the moment was over, she shook his hand and said, "Tanya Howe." After all, she thought, what use was it lying to police?

Sadusky didn't seem to notice her hesitation and instead asked, "Can you think of any reason why he'd be attacked this brutally?"

"Well, he wrote me a letter once from prison telling me he thought the guards hated him for a reason he couldn't identify. If that's not enough, then perhaps it has something to do with Nathaniel."

"Nathaniel?"

"He...was, I should say...our father."

"Did he disown you?"

"More like we don't speak with him anymore." Sadusky nodded and took a seat on one side of Ian. Tanya stared down at her unconscious brother and asked, "When did this happen?"

"About ten thirty last night. Still haven't figured out who caused the riot or why, or how Ian got involved."

"Wasn't he just an innocent bystander?"

"We actually have reason to suspect otherwise, but that theory hasn't checked out."

She nodded and chewed her lip. "Did anyone else end up like this?"

"He's the only one, and if we didn't get there when we did, he could've died."

"Was it that bad?"

Sadusky stared at the tube dripping clear fluid into Ian's body and sighed. Tanya finally tore her eyes off her brother and directeded them toward the investigator. "That's part of the reason we have reason to suspect that he was more than an innocent bystander," Sadusky finally said. "He got the worst beating, an intentional one."

"So what side was he on?"

"I haven't the slightest idea."

She nodded again and eventually took a seat in the only remaining chair, uncomfortably close to Sadusky. She watched Ian's breathing, listened to the machines monitoring his vital signs, anything she could think of in hopes that soon, he would leave.

Sadusky got to his feet and said, "Well, I better go," and he left, leaving Tanya alone with her brother.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ian felt so...strange. He remembered the riot and consequent assault with a clarity that made him wish he'd suffered a brain injury which would've granted him the gift of retrograde amnesia.

He could feel his face and the ribs that'd broken. Breathing hurt so much, almost as much as his heart still did, the way it had for the past five years. The monotony of prison life had dulled the pain to an extent where he could at least survive. The phrase 'live with it' didn't feel right and never could.

Eventually, he lapsed into a state of sleep, if he could call it that, and it was times like these where he dreamed.

He could see it clearly, Shaw's fall, and not for the first time, he desperately wished he'd jumped after him. He wished he'd died with Shaw, the way he'd lived with Shaw. He could hear himself calling his friend's name, and the latter's scream as he fell.

Friend? Why did he still think of Shaw as a friend, even after his death? It felt like too weak of a term, but he couldn't think of anything else that he could be comfortable with and still see himself as fit to live in society.

The dream was familiar to him, one he'd been having almost every night, when his guard was down. It invariably made him feel the same way, like some sizeable portion of himself had been ripped from him by the planks Shaw had fallen through, replaced by festering, infected splinters.

The scene around him faded into a new one, which was also familar, albeit less so than the preceding scene. In actuality, the scene was composed of several scenes, like a slide show, memories of the twenty years he'd shared with Shaw, the way he'd comforted him, made him feel safe, and that only made the pain worse, but he couldn't avoid the memories.

The memory reel ended, and he could feel himself returning to his body. His limbs felt heavy, and the bruises and broken ribs were moving out of the back of his mind; the pain was becoming unbearable. Gradually, he opened his eyes, and he could see a doctor standing over him with a clipboard and pencil in hand and scribbling something on a paper as he watched Ian. "Oh, you're awake," he said, glancing at Ian and scribbling another note on his paper.

He tried to open his mouth, but half of his face was in terrible pain, and even opening his mouth was painful.

"Looks like you need more morphine," the doctor said.

"No," Ian rasped, in spite of the pain. It was all he could do to stop himself to cringe afterward.

"Okay, then. Is there anything you do need?"

Even if he could open his mouth painlessly, saying the one thing on his mind at that moment could never be done with the same lack of feeling, so he just shook his head. The doctor nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Ian alone with his thoughts and the pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

She paced back and forth slowly, one hand supporting her elbow and the other holding her phone to her ear. Riley finally answered the phone, cuing her use of the American accent. "Hey, Andy. What's up?" he asked.

"Not a whole lot. You?"

"Not much. Just been busy and stuff, so, yeah. Anyway, how's your brother?"

"Beat up real bad. Bruises all over half his face and neck, it's like somebody attacked him in the middle of the prison riot."

"Oh, was it the one that was all over the news, at the federal prison?"

"Yeah, that's the one. I think he's the only one that got beat up."

"No way, that was Ian."

Andy's voice caught in her throat, and she wondered exactly how she should proceed. Finally she said, "I'm talking about another prison riot. I just have the two switched around."

"Oh, okay. That makes sense." She allowed a small, silent sigh of relief to escape her, despite the fact that his voice seemed uncertain. "Hey, uh, you free next Tuesday night?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I'm off that day. Why?"

"I was...uh...wondering if...if you could go out with me?"

"Sure. Where to?"

"I was thinking, y'know, the Revolutionary Diner or something. Nothing fancy, and it was the closest I could think of to my apartment building."

"Hold up, are you putting the moves on me?"

"No, no, no. No way," he said quickly. "I just...y'know...it's...I couldn't think of anything else, and I wish I could take you somewhere nice and fancy that took a little driving time and maybe costed a little more, but I don't wanna be seen. People recognizing me is getting old."

"Oh, I know what that feels like. So, how exactly is the Revolutionary?"

"Well, I've only been there once or twice, and it was pretty good. Food's good, service is good. It's nothing fancy and something I can afford."

"Wait, you plan to pay for this?"

"Well, I am taking you out, right?"

"Yeah, but you want to pay for it?"

"That's how its done, right? I mean, I got this advice from Ben, and he really hasn't had the best luck lately, but it seems to have mellowed out."

"Oh, okay. I mean, I'm not really sure about having you pay for everything. Maybe we should go Dutch."

"Oh, yeah, okay. Sounds good."

"Okay, so where do you live? I'll pick you up at seven."

"I'm in the apartment building at the corner of Seventh Street and Oakridge Avenue."

"Okay. How does seven sound?"

"Perfect. Seven sounds perfect. I'll see you then."

"Great. See ya then."

The line went dead, and Andy moved to pocket her phone when it rang again. She checked the caller ID before answering with a crisp, British, "Hello?"

"Aye, Tanya, thought yae were trying tae pull an American fer a second," Powell said from the other end of the line.

"I thought you were still in prison, thought you all were."

"They cannae reach a determination on Phil's nationality, but Viktor and I are out free on parole."

"So you're not really free."

"'S close enough. We're at Ian's old place if yae wannae drop by, pay us a visit."

"I might."

"Hey, speaking of, how is Ian? Heard he got intae a horrible prison riot and got pounded on real bad."

"He's in the hospital. I went to see him. It's bad, Powell. Bruises all over his face and neck, and evidently there's a wrap around his chest, which can mean only one thing."

"Broken ribs," Powell and Tanya said at the same time.

"He's going to be fine," Tanya whispered. "The doctors say his condition's stabilized."

"Oh, good, very good. Now, you. Anything new?"

"Just this bloke."

"What bloke? Would Ian approve?"

"Ian knows him. It's Riley."

"Poole?"

"What other Riley do you know? Anyway, moving on I know he's getting suspicious, and I'll have to tell him eventually. My question is, sooner or later?"

"Depends on how bad he'll take it if he finds out some other way."

"Then that defeats the purpose of what I'm trying to do."

"Then I think you need to figure out if you can trust him first before you decide to tell him who you really are."

"I think you're right." Tuesday's just one date, Tanya mentally added. Powell definitely had a point, one she hadn't discussed since the accident. "Anything new in your sphere?"

"Just the whole freedom thing. Hope Ian at least gets out of that prison, or Shaw's ghost protects him."

"Shaw hasn't moved on?"

"I doubt it, after what he and Ian shared."

She licked her upper lip and checked the time. "I better go. I have a shift in twenty minutes."

"Better let you go, then. Yae cannae afford tae be late."

She snapped the phone shut and walked into her bathroom, where she touched up the make-up over her left eye, specifically the foundation which hid the thick, pink scar which ran from about a centimeter above her eyebrow, through it and down to just above her lip, broken only by the presence of her eye. After she finished with the foundation, she put in the colored contact which hid the fact that she was blind in one eye, said a few things in an American accent, with commonly used Americanisms, and Andy Jones was complete.

She plucked the keys off the endtable by her couch and walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind her. She made her way out of the apartment building and out to her sedan, which she unlocked and climbed inside of, and she pulled out and drove down a few blocks to a diner, where she parked and clocked in before a redhead in her age group tossed her her apron. "Thanks, Kelly," Andy said.

"No prob, Andy," Kelly replied.

Her shift was uneventful, with its usual lousy tips, customers with snotty attitudes, and the other usual waitress complaints that circulated throughout the restaurant. This went on for eight hours before she was allowed to clock out and drive back to her apartment.

She parked in the lot to her apartment building and rubbed her eyes. "What a day," she whispered, in a British accent, before climbing out of her car, walking into the complex, and making her way up to her apartment building.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Riley scanned document after document, trying to put pieces together to form a cohesive thought, which he hoped would amount to a chapter for his latest project. It was strange, that his mind seemed to be functioning more clearly even though at least a small part of it was completely preoccupied with Andy Jones, the girl who first told him his car was being towed. The girl who found him at a party in Washington, D.C., and then had to leave for a family emergency.

There was something about that family emergency that he had to check out. There had been only one potentially fatal prison riot in the past twenty-four hours, and there had been only one severely beaten in this one prison riot was Ian Howe. That meant that if Riley was doing his math right, then Andy was lying about something, and he had the feeling the perfect American accent was a lie, one to go with every other lie she might've been telling.

Even after he checked out the details of everything Andy had told him so far, there was still so much he didn't know, that she wasn't telling him, and he had to know what that was and whether or not it had to be checked out to prove whether or not it was another lie Andy might've been perpetrating, if that was even her real name.

There was only one way he'd find out. He'd have to ask her on Tuesday. The problem was, he didn't know whether her answer would fall within what he'd defined as the parameters for her disguise, if she answered at all, and he had no way of knowing whether or not she would. "We'll find out when we get there," he said to himself, returning to his book.

NTNT

Powell paced back and forth in the living room, and Viktor watched closely before finally asking, "What about Phil? How're things with him?"

"I dunnae know. I hope he isnae found out."

"If he is?"

"Then we've gottae do something, form a plan."

"You think Ian can still think straight?"

"I hope sae." Powell stopped pacing when he stood in the center of the living room and faced the door, and he ran his hands through his hair. His hands rested on his hips and his head fell back a little bit. "I really hope sae," he said.

"And Tanya?"

"She knows Riley's suspicious, which means fer the first time, her disguise is breakin' down. She has tae tell him sooner er later."

Victor chewed his lip. "Will she come around here?"

"I dunnae, but I told her she could, and she said she might."

"So maybe she will, and maybe there could be five of us again, Ian included. I know we won't be complete ever again, but maybe..."

"Yae think there's hope for us?"

"Could be."

Powell chewed his lip and turned his thoughtful eyes toward Viktor. "Maybe."

NTNT

Andy walked into the kitchen at her restaruant, leaned against the door, and sighed. "Troublesome customers?" Kelly asked.

"Oh, God, yes," Andy replied.

Her friend rested a hand on her shoulder, and Andy stood erect and passed off the latest of a string of orders to the cook. "Oh, God, what else does he want?" the cook asked.

"Oh, this sounds bad. Which one is it?" Kelly asked.

"The British dude at table fifteen."

"I'll take care of him."

"Thanks, Kelly. You're a lifesaver."

Andy walked out of the kitchen and proceeded to wait on the other tables in her section. She could see Kelly walk out of hte kitchen with a tray in one hand, making a beeline to table fifteen. She returned her attention to the tables and the completion of her shift, but she could feel the Brit's eyes on her even as he walked out the door, and when she turned at that moment, she managed to get a good look at him.

The man looked a lot like Ian, and the Tanya inside of her instantly recognized him. Nathaniel.

Andy forced herself to walk over to the next table and say, "I'm Andy Jones, and I'll be your server this afternoon."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Tuesday arrived faster than Andy could've anticipated, and she found herself searching through her closet for something to wear with an hour to seven. Finally, she settled on on a lavender, asymmetrically cut, knee-length dress, so she picked out shoes, a jacket, and a purse to match it. She put her phone and some money in the purse, shrugged on the jacket, and checked the time. She had half an hour.

She touched up on her foundation, and her phone rang, so she fished it out of her purse and checked the caller ID. "Hello," she said in a British accent.

"Tanya," the doctor on the other end said, "your brother's condition is improving. In fact, he's the one that asked me to call you."

"How long is he supposed to be hospitalized?"

"A few more days for observation, and he'll have to come back a few weeks after that to remove the wrap around his ribs."

"Alright. Will he have to go back to prison?"

"You'll have to talk to Ian about that, but he did say something about a parole hearing he just couldn't miss."

"Alright. Tell him I wish him the best."

"Can do, Tanya."

"Thanks for the update."

"You're welcome. I'll call you if anything changes."

"Great, thank you."

The line went dead, and Tanya put her phone back in her purse. She adjusted her accent and Andy Jones was back.

She took her keys off their usual spot on the endtable, and locked her door as she walked out of her apartment, and locked the door behind her. She took a step out into the hall and glanced down at the end of the hall, and what she saw made her stop cold.

Nathaniel took a few steps toward her, his hands behind his back. "Hello, Tanya," he said evenly.

"Whaddaya want?" Andy asked.

"I wanted to find you. Honestly, why keep up pretenses around your own father?"

"I don't even know you." She tried to step past him, but he mirrored her every move. "C'mon, you crazy person. You let me by and don't come after me again, and I won't call the police."

"You'd call the police on me?"

Andy pulled her phone out of her purse, flipped it open, pressed the nine key and moved her thumb to the one key. "Wanna try it?"

"Well, then, if you insist." Nathaniel stepped aside, and Andy walked past him to the stairs. As she walked by, she could feel his eyes on her, just as she had when he was in the restaurant.

She walked out onto the sidewalk just as a red convertible pulled into the parking lot. She waved to Riley, who waved back from the driver's seat, and she climbed into the passenger side. "You ready?" he asked.

"Yeah. Y'know, I work at the Revolutionary."

"Wow, I did not know that." He reached for the radio and asked, "You like country?"

"Pop, actually. They probably mixed over by now, but if you want to listen to it, go ahead."

He turned on the radio, and sure enough, country and pop were swiftly becoming one and the same, and to Andy, it was actually quite a nice blend. She smiled and leaned back in her seat. "You look really nice tonight," he said, and she glanced over at him and could see the blush that played on his cheeks.

"Thanks," she whispered. "You clean up well yourself."

He turned toward the road, grinning and blushing some more, and he managed to stutter out, "Th-thanks."

She glanced out the side window at the mirror and noticed that they were being followed by a shiny black car. The car was close enough for her to see the driver, Nathaniel. She slumped back in her seat and kept her eyes on the road in front of her.

"Hey, uh, what's wrong?" he asked.

"N-nothing," she replied.

"Oh, ah, okay, then." They both returned their attention to the road in front of them.

Eventually, Riley pulled the convertible into the parking lot, climbed out, and walked around the front to help Andy out. "Thank you, kind sir," she said, more than a little playfully, and they both laughed as they walked through the door.

"Oh, hey, Andy," Kelly said when she met them at the podium positioned near the door. "You didn't tell me you had a date."

"I wanted it to be a surprise. Besides, it was his idea," Andy replied, gesturing to Riley.

"Heh, okay then. Menus?"

"Yes, please," Riley and Andy said at the same time. Kelly pulled two menus off the top of a stack next to the podium and led the two to a booth in the back. She handed them their menus as they sat down, and Riley immediately cracked his open.

"I heard nothing but good things about the Valley Forge Soup yesterday."

"The...Valley Forge Soup?" Riley asked, turning up one corner of his mouth in a questioning smile.

"I mean, if you wanna try it."

He glanced back at his menu before asking, "What do people say about the Chicken Noodle Soup in American Tea?"

"Either love it or hate it. No gray area."

"Hm, sounds interesting."

Kelly returned to their booth and took their order, and when she walked off to the kitchen, Riley said, "I've got a question for you."

"What?"

"Who are you? Really?"

"I told you," Andy said with a slight laugh. "Andy Jones."

"Does Andy Jones sometimes have a British accent or lie about prison riots?"

"Why are you talking about me like I'm not here?"

"Because I don't think there is such a person as Andy Jones, especially if she's sitting in front of me right now. This' been buggin' me for the past three days now."

"Okay, so whaddaya wanna know?"

"I wanna know who you are, since I don't think Andy's your real name and I dunno what to call you."

She lowered her voice, leaned in, and said, "If you find out, it's on my terms."

"Wait, you have terms now?"

"I've always had terms, Riley. It's about time you learned about them."

"Okay, so, what are your terms?"

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "First, I need to know whether or not I can trust you, and I don't know you well enough for that. Second, don't ask questions prematurely. It could get you killed, and we can't have that, now can we?"

"Those sound easy."

"Third, tell Gates and his girlfriend to stay out of the Howe family's business. It stays in the family until they can get it resolved."

Riley's eyes went wide with shock, and for a long moment, he didn't say anything. When he finally did, it was to tell Kelly that he preferred water over wine, and Andy nodded in agreement. Kelly nodded, but she furrowed her brow for a second, perhaps sensing the tense moment Andy and Riley were sharing.

"You...you know about...about...?"

"Page forty-seven. Assuming the book is organized chronologically, that works out to a time when the Howe family stayed in America for a few years and built up close ties with friends in high places, as it were. As I said, it's the Howe family secret, so it's the Howe family's business. Don't get involved, you or your friends."

Riley wanted to say, "Or what?", but something about Andy's tone kept him silent. Kelly delivered the food, and they both thanked her simultaneously. An awkward silence settled over them as they ate, and when she finished, Andy said, "Excuse me. I have to make a phone call."

"Okay."

She slipped out of her seat and walked out the front door, fishing her phone out of her purse. She dialled a number and waited until Powell answered.

"'Ello, Tanya," he said. "Not like yae tae call this late."

"They're on to us," Tanya replied. "Gates, his girlfriend, Riley, all of them. We've gotta do something to protect the secret."

"What dae yae suggest?"

"We need to make sure Phil can get out of the system safely, and we need to get to Nathaniel's library, since he's here and it's all the way in London at our old address."

"So do we split up?"

"We should. Which one's better at ensuring Phil clears the system?"

There was a long pause, and Tanya knew the answer. "Oh, I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, it's fine. He taught me how to...I'll take care of it."

"Alright. That leaves Viktor, and I'll send him a plane ticket to London."

"Alright, if he's alright with it."

"Alright with what?" Viktor asked, and Tanya could tell he'd both overheard and was in close proximity to Powell.

She waited until Powell handed off the phone before she asked, "What do you say to a flight to London?"

"What for?" Viktor replied. "Vacation?"

"Nathaniel's here, which means his library at our old address is unguarded. There's a book somewhere in it, titled 'The Soldier's Guidebook'. Think you can find it?"

"Trust me, T, I can find anything."

"Oh, great. Thank you so much. You're a huge help."

"No problem. Nice to be back on a job again."

"I'm trying to figure out how to make everything seem normal again for when Ian returns. I know it's been a challenge, but I'm afraid this is all I can do."

"We'll take care of the rest. You enjoy your night, Tanya. Wanna talk to Powell some more?"

"No thanks. I've gotta get back to my date."

"Alright. We'll talk to you later. Good luck on your date."

"Alright, thanks." She snapped her phone shut and walked back into the Revolutionary Diner to rejoin Riley.

"What was that about?"

"Family stuff," Andy replied.

"Oh. Everything okay?"

"Now it is."

"That's good." The rest of the evening proceeded as if nothing ever happened.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Ian allowed the guards to lead him into the board room, and he sat down gingerly. Breathing still hurt, but he did feel a little better when the hospital temporarily released him for his parole hearing.

"Ian Howe, do you recall the charges against you?" the man in the middle of the three at the table asked.

"Tresspassing on government property, kidnapping, and attempted murder," he replied, finding it easier to fight the urge to cringe at the pain in his face as he spoke.

"Very good. It seems the attack on you hasn't damaged your brain. Now, do you remember how you pled?"

"Guilty to tresspassing and kidnapping, not guilty to attempted murder."

"By reason of insanity?"

"Not that I recall."

"Now, do you recall what or who caused the riot?"

"I remember the chaos, and being attacked by someone telling me he wanted me out of the way, and that's about it."

"Thank you."

The parole board members continued asking questions, and Ian continued to answer them, regardless of what the question was. After several hours, he was dismissed, and he met Sadusky in the corridor.

"How are you?" the FBI agent asked. "You look better."

"I've been worse," Ian replied. "Any word on Gates' latest quest?"

"How'd you know he was on one?"

"Call it a...gift...that I have."

"Oh, okay. Haven't heard anything new yet, since you asked."

"Thank you. Next question: Why are you bothering with me?"

"Well, remember when I interviewed you?"

"Yes."

"I had decided then that you really weren't as bad as everyone made you out to be. Of course, I could end up being horribly wrong and not find that out until too late, but I'm old. I'll take the risk."

"Oh."

Ian was called back into the room and allowed himself to be led back in and sat down. The three members of the parole board filed into the room and sat down in their order at the table. If it weren't for Ian's still purple bruise, he'd have chewed his lip. "Ian Howe, thank you for your cooperation today," the man in the middle said.

"You're welcome," Ian replied.

"We'll call you back tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

Ian was led out of the room and out to a car, where he got inside and was driven back to the Washington, D.C., Mercy Hospital.

NTNT

Tanya lay back on her couch, staring up at the ceiling, allowing her mind to race through solution after solution. Riley was already onto her, and Gates and girlfriend were onto the Howe family in general, which left Tanya in something of a pickle, as the Americans would say.

She scratched at her left eye, not really caring that foundation was getting under her fingernails, and ultimately decided to walk into the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and clean it off. Her eyes drifted upward to the reflection of her face. Her eyes followed the scar which all but destroyed the left side of her face, and when she removed her colored contact lenses, her eyes again drifted to the reflection, revealing once again to her good eye that its partner was but a glassy blue shell of its former self.

She rinsed out the washcloth and left it in a heap next to her bathroom sink and put her contact lens case in the farthest corner the counter would allow before walking back out to the living room and laying back down on her couch.

She was in no better position than she was in before she cleaned off her make-up, but at least she felt better. She felt more like Tanya Howe and less like Andy Jones, which was a benefit to her if she wanted to figure out some plan to help her brother in every way she could.

Her phone beeped, so she opened it and read the text message: 'When can i go 2 london?' It was from Viktor.

"Dammit," she whispered, letting her head fall backwards against the armrest. "I need to mail him the bloody airline ticket." She sent him a quick reply, snapped her phone shut, and let it fall to the floor. It'd been such a long day, but she knew if she tried to sleep, it would be impossible, and she'd have to either take sleeping pills or find something to occupy her time.

Her eyes wandered to the clock on the endtable, which put the time at eleven forty-five that night, still Tuesday. "Fifteen more minutes and this bloody Tuesday's over."

Her phone rang, and slowly, reluctantly, she reached down to pick it up. The number on the screen was completely unfamiliar, so she opened her phone and put it on loudspeaker. The man on the other end asked, "Hello?" but she didn't know the voice. "Tanya? Tanya Howe?"

She took the phone off loudspeaker, brought it to her ear, and asked, "Who's calling?"

"Ben. Ben Gates."

"You talk like I'm supposed to know you, and I don't."

"I knew your brother."

"Enough of these pleasantries. What the bloody hell do you want?"

"I have reason to suspect that there's a book in your father's library which contains...which contains a clue to the location of...the location of..."

"Items of historic and intrisnic value?"

"Maybe."

"So, why are you telling me this? It's my father's library we're discussing."

"I also have reason to suspect that Ian won't let us within miles of this book."

Tanya sat up and reached over to her laptop, which she flipped open effortlessly. "You want me to go along with your crazy scheme like my brother did before Shaw died? What if its your friend this time?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, giving her enough time to log on and access the internet. "It won't be like that," Ben finally said.

"How do you know? I heard you tell Ian everyone would be fine at the end of your adventure, and Shaw fell to his death and the rest of them ended up in prison."

"Did they all win parole?"

"Why do you care?"

"I'm just curious."

She sighed. "Phil and Ian pending," she growled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a plane ticket to order."

"You're not excused. What about this book?"

"Goddammit, you're bloody insistent. You leave this alone and get some sleep, it's the middle of the bloody night, so get out of my life and hang up the goddamn phone so I can get my stuff done so I can go to sleep."

"Okay." Ben sounded more than a little intimidated, but Tanya snapped her phone shut before she could second guess herself and apologize.

She scanned every site she could find for a cheap, early round-trip flight to London until she found one she could be happy with sending Viktor on, so she clicked the link and arranged to have it sent right to Ian's old place. With that done, she turned off her laptop and lay back on her couch, allowing herself to drift off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The guard tossed Ian his clothes, and he knew instantly and followed the guard wordlessly. He changed in the nearest men's room, and the guard led him down the corridor and out a door, where Agent Sadusky was waiting. "Congratulations, Ian," he said with a slight smile as he led Ian to a squad car and climbed in the back, alongside him. "You still live at your old address?"

"Last time I checked," Ian replied, keeping his eyes on the back of the seat in front of him.

"Okay. Do you, uh, wanna visit Trinity Church?"

"I'll go by myself."

Sadusky nodded and turned his eyes to the seat in front of him, and an awkward silence fell over the back of the squad car. Eventually, the car parked, and for a second, Ian waited for someone to open the door. Fully realizing that wasn't going to happen, he climbed out himself and walked up the old familiar walkway to a mansion he hadn't been in for five years.

As soon as he walked in, he quickly noticed two familiar faces in the living room, sharing a few laughs over a movie. "It's a shame I'm missing all the fun," he said with a smile.

Powell and Viktor turned instantly. "Yer home," Powell said.

"I'll be damned," Viktor added. "I thought Gates would keep you in jail as long as possible."

"He wasn't even present, thankfully," Ian replied. "Is there anything important I've missed?"

"Yer sister's sending us on missions," Powell said. "Looks like she's got life figured out."

"Perhaps she does. What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm going to end up in London," Viktor said, "at your old place, looking for a book or two. 'The Soldier's Guidebook', was it?"

"Keep your eye out for anything suspicious when you're over there, especially in Nathaniel's library. Look for anything unusual which may be in his possession, and don't get caught."

"Aye aye." Viktor saluted his boss, who nodded and turned his attention to Powell. Viktor himself was already on his way to the kitchen.

"And what's your mission?"

"I've gottae go find Phil and make sure he gets out of the system alright."

"I'm assuming those are Tanya's instructions."

"Aye."

Ian nodded. "She doesn't know me as well as Shaw did, but she's getting close."

Powell averted his gaze and excused himself before following Viktor out of the room. Ian turned away from the living room and walked up the stairs, letting his feet guide him to the room he used to share with Shaw. He never opened the door, but instead he walked down the hall, examining the doors he barely remembered but which still managed to summon memories from a time before, a time when his life was complete.

"Hey, how dae yae want me tae go about makin' sure Phil gets through the system alright?" Powell asked, jerking Ian out of his musings.

"Just make sure no one finds out his true identity, which should be easy, since he's from a place that evidently doesn't believe in identification papers," Ian replied evenly. "We can't afford to have anyone discover that his identification has been forged."

Powell nodded, and after a moment, he lowered his voice and asked, "Yae sure yer alright?"

Ian nodded, but he said nothing, and eventually, he and Powell walked down to the kitchen.

NTNT

Andy clocked out at five thirty exactly, and she cleared her throat as she climbed into her sedan. She pulled out and drove down the road in accordance with the speed limit, but her thoughts were racing so fast she swore she'd get pulled over because of them.

"Focus," she said, lapsing back into her British accent. "You're Tanya now."

She turned a few corners before reaching the familiar long stretch of nice upper-class homes. She counted the walkways she'd passed until she reached twelve, and she turned onto the thirteenth, where two cars were already parked. She parked the sedan along the walkway, behind the other two, climbed out, and walked up the path.

Just before she reached the door, another car pulled up, a giant red van that parked behind her sedan. She saw an older man, a blond woman, and Riley climb out of the van, and she turned away from them, finishing her walk up the porch. She knocked on the door, and Viktor answered. He glanced from her to the trio approaching behind her and ushered her inside.

Tanya slipped into the guest bathroom, wetted a washcloth, and hurriedly cleaned her face of all make up, desperately hoping Riley didn't notice her as he walked up with his friends.

Once the scar was fully visible and her colored contacts were in their case in her purse, she walked out of the bathroom to meet Ian, Viktor, Powell, Riley, and the two others. She reveled in the latter group's shock but took especially noted Riley's confusion.

"Tanya," Ian said, gesturing to the man and woman, "this is Ben Gates and Abigail Chase."

Nonetheless, Tanya slapped a smile on her face and shook Ben's and Abigail's hands in turn before returning to Ian's side.

"Hey, what about me?" Riley asked.

"Chances are, she knows you already," Ian replied.

"Ian," Tanya snapped through gritted teeth, turning her upper body toward him.

"What? He's going to find out sooner or later."

"Find out what?" Ben asked.

"It's none of your business. What you've obviously made your business is the Howe family's secret. How much do you know?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Ian added.

Ben chewed his lip and exchanged a glance with Abigail, and Tanya couldn't help but notice that Riley couldn't stop watching her. Finally, Ben said, "We don't know a lot, just that Nathaniel Howe has something to do with it, like he's hiding a clue somewhere."

Viktor stiffened, but just for a microsecond and relaxed before anyone else could notice. Tanya lowered her eyes for a second before returning her attention to Ben. It seemed as if Ian's attention never left the treasure hunter, but Ian could've been thinking and/or feeling anything as he listened to Ben speak. After a minute, Ian said, "And what makes you think you can take care of Howe family business for a Howe, or, in this case, two of us? Last I checked, we've got everything under perfect control."

"Hey, uh, whoever you are, can we talk?" Riley asked, gesturing to Tanya.

"Time to face the music," she muttered, gesturing for him to follow her out the back.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Once Tanya was sure she and Riley were clear of prying eyes and ears, despite the awkward silence which accompanied them leaving the room, she sighed and switched accents. "This is the voice I introduced myself to you with." She switched back. "This is the voice I was born with."

"What the...? You can...?" Riley managed. "But who the hell are you?"

"Riley, I knew I'd have to tell you sooner or later, but I needed to know I could trust you. I created Andy Jones to see if you were trustworthy, since I really haven't had the best luck with men, the exception being my brother and his friends, but that's beside the point. The point is, I needed to make sure I wasn't making the same mistake again."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

Tanya traced her scar, even where it was broken by her eye's presence, and said, "I got this in an auto accident, so I let everyone believe, but really the so-called accident was caused by a jealous ex of mine."

Riley's expression shifted from one which was virtually blank for all intents and purposes to one of compassion, and he took a few steps toward her and wrapped his arms around her gently. Gingerly, Tanya rested her hands on his back and closed her eyes. "Tanya, right?" Riley asked when he finally pulled away, and she nodded.

"Tanya Howe."

"Okay. So that means if I hurt you, your brother's gonna send his goons after me?"

"Or come after you himself, or I might even come after you, so you watch your step."

"I will."

"Who wants to kill a few shots?" Viktor asked, popping his head and half his body out the back door.

"I don't drink," Tanya said, carefully avoiding Viktor's gaze.

"I'll pass, too," Riley added.

"Okay," Viktor said slowly before disappearing back inside the house.

Tanya turned to face Riley and ended up taking a few steps backward, her hands on her forehead in such a way that her fingers were in her hair. After a few moments, her back was against the wall.

Riley furrowed his brow and could swear he asked, "What's wrong?" but Tanya felt like his voice was far away, too far for their close proximity.

"Oh, my God," she rasped. "What did I just do?"

"Besides tell me who you are?"

"I need to go." Tanya turned and walked back inside, and she all but ran up the stairs to a guest bedroom.

NTNT

Ian glanced at the stairwell as Tanya dashed up it, and followed her as soon as he could, given that he had to excuse himself to do so. He followed her all the way to the guest bedroom, where he knocked and asked, "Tanya, may I come in?"

"Do whatever you want," Tanya snapped.

Ian gingerly opened the door and slipped inside. Tanya was sitting at the head of the bed, her knees up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. He sat at the head of the bed and scooted up next to her. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, God, what did I just do?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"I have the sick feeling I've just made a horrible mistake."

"Let me tell you something, Tanya. So do I, sometimes, especially in the middle of the night when I don't have anyone to pretend for."

"Your mistake isn't telling a perfect stranger about your identity and why you hide it."

"No, but quite frankly it's Riley's mistake as well for pressing you into, how they say here, a corner."

"So what's your big mistake, Mr. I-Haven't-Made-A-Mistake-Yet?"

Ian turned his eyes toward the bedspread just to the right of where he sat. "Not jumping after Shaw," he rasped, as if the words had to work their way through a series of rocks before they could get out of his mouth.

"Wait, he jumped?"

"Fell. He fell. It was such an unfortunate accident." Ian licked his lip, and his gaze drifted upward, toward where the ceiling met the wall.

"I thought he got shot or hit by an auto or something. You never told me he fell."

"I never told anyone about how Shaw died." Ian's voice, which he'd managed to hold together throughout the whole exchange, was finally breaking, and Tanya took the cue to stop pressing him. Instead, she leaned against him and closed her eyes, and he rested his head on hers, finding the silence a blessing.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Riley watched Ben and Abi closely, having nothing better to do, and he could feel Viktor's and Powell's eyes on him no matter what he did. The talk around him was light, like he was a ghost at a party, but at the same time, it was awkward, like Ben and Abi were gauging whether or not they could still trust Ian and his crew.

Ben checked his watch and said, "Oh, God, it's getting late. We better go." Abi quickly agreed, but Riley was more hesitant, even though he eventually did follow his friends' lead as they walked out of the mansion.

Viktor leaned back in his seat, his fingers brushing the base of his shotglass, as he watched the three unexpected though welcome guests leave. "Maybe we shouldn't have invited them in," he said.

"What about Riley?" Powell asked.

"I dunno. Tanya was completely welcome, but I'm not sure about the other two."

"You think we'll have tae go after Riley? It sure looks like somethin' he said tae her out there had a real effect on 'er, and not a good one."

The phone rang, and even though Viktor tried to get to his feet, Powell proved far more steady on his feet and consequently answered the phone. "'Ello, who's this?"

"Oh, has Ian gotten the group back together?" a raspy, though definitively English, voice asked. "It'll be such a pleasure seeing you all together again."

"What are yae talking about?"

"I'm talking about dropping by and paying my children and their friends a visit. Can I not do that as a loving father?"

Powell had to surpress his laughter before it betrayed him and made the caller think he thought he was crazy. "Who are yae, anyway?"

"What? You don't recognize Nathaniel Howe?"

He gestured to Viktor, who grabbed a notepad and paper and quickly scrawled the name Powell mouthed to him in between faking small talk with Nathaniel. Eventually, he talked Nathaniel into hanging up and asked Viktor, "Should we tell Ian?"

Viktor shook his head. "Not until tomorrow. Let him commiserate with his sister."

Powell nodded and returned to his seat at the dining room table.

NTNT

Riley paced back and forth across his apartment, from computer desk to door, until the clock read eleven thirty, and he tried to pass out on his couch, but sleep wouldn't come as easily as he hoped it would.

Tanya had lied to him about her identity, sure, but he understood. She needed to know she could trust him, and this fact alone made him regret pressing her so hard the way he had. In a way, he wanted the same thing, which made his regret deeper.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled Tanya's number. She didn't answer, but she did have her answering machine set up, so when the tone came, he said, "I'm sorry about last night. I just...I like you a lot, whether you're Andy or Tanya, and if I said something to make you feel bad, I'm really sorry." He snapped his phone shut and pocketed it before collapsing across the length of the couch.

NTNT

The sun's rays drifted through the half-open guest room curtain just as Ian's eyes fluttered open. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Shaw standing in the corner, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, watching him the same way he watched Ian in life.

Ian blinked, and the transparent form of Shaw disappeared, leaving him wondering if he'd lost his mind or not.

Even so, he adjusted Tanya's position so that she was laying on the bed on her side, and he walked out of the guest room, down the hall, down the stairs, out to the kitchen/dining room. He could hear Viktor snoring on the couch in the living room, and there was a note on the table in Powell's handwriting. 'Nathaniel called last night. Thought it'd be good to see us all together. Probably doesn't care about what happened. Powell'.

Ian crumpled up the note and tossed it in the wastebasket, collapsing into a chair with a sigh. Someone knocked on the door, so he forced himself to his feet and answered to the thirteen-year-old that delivered his mail, except he was closer to nineteen or twenty now. "Here's your mail, Mr. Howe."

"Thank you, Jason," Ian replied, taking the few magazines and envelopes Jason handed him. "Have a good one."

"You, too."

Jason walked off, and Ian shut the door and sorted through his mail. There was a plane ticket which had been mailed to that address, but the return address was that of a travel company. Judging by what Tanya had told him the previous night, this must've been for Viktor. There was a letter from Phil, which Ian promptly opened.

'Ian,

'They still think I'm Phil, and I'm gonna be released next week, so I don't need to keep this up much longer. Just a few more days, Ian, but I think that's about as normal as it's gonna get after that.

'Anyway, I'll see you in a few days, and this might even be my last letter.

'Phil'

Ian folded up the letter and slid it back into its envelope, setting it on the table next to, but in a new pile separate from, the letter from the travel company. The magazines and catalogs went in a third pile, and finally there was a postcard. "As if your call isn't enough, Nathaniel," he muttered, tossing the postcard in the wastebasket.

Viktor's snoring stopped, the only clue Ian had, from his present location, that he'd awoken, and lo and behold, a few minutes later, a slightly hungover, more than a little sleepy Viktor stumbled into the kitchen/dining room, rubbing his eyes.

"Your plane ticket," Ian said, handing Viktor the envelope from the travel company, his expression brightening instantly.

"Great. Can I start packing now?"

"If I may, and this is my curiosity speaking, why are you so eager to go to London?"

"I just need to be on a mission. I need to do something. Helps keep me sober."

"I see. Whatever works, I guess. Go ahead, get ready. The sooner this is out of the way, the better." As Viktor ascended the stairs, Ian added, "Oh, and call either myself or Tanya if you have any questions." Viktor nodded over his shoulder and continued on his way up the stairs.

For his part, Ian found himself alone once again, and he glimpsed Shaw watching him for the second time that morning, this time from the doorway leading to the first floor study. "I'm losing my mind," he whispered when Shaw's image disappeared. "I should get myself checked."

NTNT

Tanya's eyes fluttered open to find herself completely horizontal on the bed. She adjusted her position and pulled her phone out of her pocket, noticing that she'd had a missed call. She checked her messages, of which there was one, from Riley, apologizing for the previous night, and she called him back.

"Hello?" Riley asked when he answered his phone.

"I...I got your message, and...it's not your fault, Riley," Tanya replied. "I meant to tell you when I was absolutely certain you were worthy of my trust. You just...you just..."

"I pushed too hard, I know. I'm sorry, and that's why it's my fault."

"It's not your fault. It's mine, because I'm too afraid of men. You're a really nice guy, Riley, and it's bloody stupid of me that I just...that I felt like I couldn't count on you. You're the type of bloke I'm pretty certain I can count on, and I'm worried I'm going to miss my chance if I'm too careful."

"Tanya, I was too curious for my own good."

"No, curiosity is good. It saved our back ends in London."

"So, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Riley chuckled, and his tone regained its seriousness when he asked, "Was some of what you told me true, that you have a brother who got in a prison riot and stuff like that?"

"I have a brother, he's still heavily bruised from his prison riot scrape, but he's fine. I can't quite remember everything else I told you about him, but I have a brother."

"Okay."

"I've got the feeling Ian's not your favorite person in the world."

"He pointed a gun at me."

"Where did he do that?"

"In the tunnel, just before we found the treasure. All the details are in my book."

"Oh, I remember now. I'm just not sure I want to touch on such a sensitive subject with these men, especially Ian."

"What's so sensitive about the hunt for the Templar Treasure?"

"You know." Tanya lowered her voice and glanced around the room on the off chance she would be overheard. "Shaw's death."

"Ooooh. Okay. Have you tried instilling a sense of normalcy?"

"We're working on it. Viktor's been assigned a mission, and Powell's supposed to make sure Phil makes it back, though I have the strangest feeling Phil doesn't need Powell's help."

"Okay." She could hear someone call Riley's name, and he added, "I've gotta go, but I'll talk to you later."

"Alright. Talk to you soon." She snapped her phone shut and put it on the nightstand, and just as she walked out the door, she almost intercepted Viktor.

"Sorry, T," he said quickly. He had several bags on his arms.

"So, the plane ticket must've arrived."

"Oh, yeah. I'm so excited to be on a mission again."

"Call if you have any questions."

"Yeah, that's what Ian was telling me. Can't wait." He walked off down the hall and she to the upstairs bathroom, where she washed her face off. She took a pass on the foundation and colored contacts, instead walking downstairs to the kitchen, where she poured herself a bowl of cereal. Ian elected to drive Viktor to the airport, and she saw them both off before resuming her day.

Her eyes drifted to the open envelope on the table, so she picked it up, pulled out a piece of paper and read it once through as Powell walked into the kitchen. "It looks like you're off, bloke," she said, handing him Phil's letter. Powell read it twice, furrowing his brow during the first time through and widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows during the second time through. "What'ya think?"

"I think pretty soon we're gonnae have us a crew. No' a full one, but a crew nonetheless."

"Will we have the resources to deal with Nathaniel?"

"I dunnae about that, but I hope. Speakin' of, he called yesterday."

Tanya narrowed her eyes and turned her head to the side just slightly. "Why?"

Powell shrugged and set the letter back on the table. "Beats me."

"Did he say anything?"

"Said he wanted tae see the whole crew together, got no idea Shaw's dead, like he drops by every year er sae fer a visit. Ain't seen him since we left London."

"Oh, God, Viktor."

"What about him?"

"He's going back."

"Yes, but Nathaniel's here, last time I checked, and as long as he stays in the States and Viktor's in London long enough tae complete the mission, he should be fine."

Tanya allowed herself to relax and return to her cereal. Powell poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat across the table from her.

Ian walked in a few moments later and said, "Looks like everything's going off without a hitch."

"Well, that's good," Tanya said. "That's very good."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Viktor walked out of the airport and into the streets of London, surrounded by more of the same regarding the English accent Ian possessed. Some people inflected it differently depending on their particular voices and their surroundings when they learned to speak.

Even so, he found his way down street after street until he finally turned onto a narrow road he'd never thought he'd see again. At the end of the road was an all too familiar castle, one he gingerly stepped toward. He reached the castle and found the almost-too-modern door to be unlocked. From there it was only a matter of time and winding corridors until he reached the library.

Nathaniel Howe's library was a dusty room filled with bookshelves and tables, the latter being the first thing Viktor checked. Many of the tables were littered with papers and open books which ultimately turned out to be of nothing important, but one, which was in a dark corner with a lot of dust floating around it, had only one book, a folder, and a small, bronze case on a string on it.

He checked the book's front cover. "'The Soldier's Guidebook'," he whispered. The folder wasn't labelled, but inside were records: birth certificates of the Howe children, records of their education, personal notes about how it was best to proceed in certain areas, and among the notes, one which read, 'Siblings psychically linked, possible damage likely to be irreparable, proceed with caution.' "This one's a keeper," he whispered again before closing the folder and turning to the case, which creaked a little when he opened it. The case opened nonetheless to reveal a compass, and on the lid was an inscription, 'The Viscount's Compass'.

He picked up the compass, book, and folder and made his way out of the library, down the winding corridors and narrow stairways he'd walked up to get to the library, and ultimately out of the castle before he dared to fish out his phone and dial a number. It took him several tries before he got the international code right and could reach Ian, who asked, "Found anything?" when he answered the phone.

"Yeah, a few things actually. The guidebook, a folder, and something called the Viscount's Compass," Viktor replied. "Sound like anything we can use?"

"Yes, actually. I'm impressed, and I'm sure Tanya will be, too. Now, do you have enough money to stay at a hotel?"

"A cheap one, for the night, until I can get a flight home."

"Alright. Excellent work."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, and good luck."

"Thank you."

"Again, you're welcome. Call me if anything changes."

"Yes, sir."

The line went dead, and Viktor pressed the end button on his phone before pocketing it. He walked out into the streets of London, first to check at the airport for the next flight to the United States, and second, or so his plan went, to find a cheap hotel. However, what he found instead was that the next flight to the United States was in an hour, so he chose to wait in the lobby for that time.

NTNT

Only when Tanya put her colored contacts in and applied her foundation and fully became Andy Jones again solely for the purpose of going to the Revolutionary Diner for her shift did she have the strangest feeling. This was going along too easily. There had to be some sort of catch.

She walked out to the living room, where she noticed her purse and a slip of paper next to it. 'Ian tells me he has the feeling you might need this. Ben'. Next to it was an image from a page out of a book, but the resolution was so poor any detail was completely impossible to make out, making it look like an image of a blank page. She crumpled the note and image up and tossed them both in the wastebasket as she walked out the door to her sedan.

NTNT

"The only reason she wouldn't have cared about the note is the crappy picture you took to go with it," Riley said, staring up at Ben from where he sat on the sofa, his open laptop on the coffee table in front of him. "Why not just write out what Page Forty-seven says and use that in the note instead?"

"I can't, Riley," Ben replied. "It's just too sensitive."

"We already know, and obviously she knows, too, and she should. It's about her family."

"Riley, this is serious. I have to take all the security precautions I've been told to take, and there are a lot. It's hard to keep track. Look, until we can figure out where this supposed compass leads and what it means, we just can't run the risk of anybody else finding out. It's too dangerous."

"Ben, what would you do if I told Tanya?"

"What are you thinking, Riley? That's insane."

"So's keeping quiet. Why do you think I wrote my book?"

"Ri-"

"Ben, think about it. This is Tanya's family we're talking about, Ian included. I dunno if the fact that Ian's back is keeping you from telling her or what, but it sure won't stop me. I'm not gonna let it."

"Riley, Ian has nothing to do with it."

"He does have something to do with it, Ben, and you know it, whether it's the fact that he's a Howe or the fact that you don't like it that he's back, he has something to do with it. That's it."

Ben sighed and buried his face in his hands, turning away from Riley as he did so. "Riley, I can't believe you're considering this."

"Oh yeah? How many decisions have you made without my consent, Ben? Think about it. I want to have an adventure, beat bad guys, not be the sidekick anymore."

Ben turned toward Riley, and for the first time in a very long time, he was speechless. Eventually, he collapsed into one of the two recliners which accompanied the sofa in circling the coffee table. He turned his eyes toward Riley and rested his head on his folded hands, his elbows on his knees. All through the awkward silence, Riley couldn't stop watching Ben.

"You're right," Ben whispered finally. "I guess I should turn this one over to you. I'll go tell the President." He got to his feet, fished out his phone, and walked into another room.

NTNT

Andy passed off a series of order slips to a series of cooks before picking up a tray and putting a few plates of food and glasses of soda on it and walking out of the kitchen. She gave a dating couple their shared entree and soda, along with two straws. She gave a solitary man his daily special and a family the small dinners from the Minute-Kids' Menu and their equally small drinks and an entree the parents decided to share.

With the tray empty, she walked back into the kitchen for the next round of plates and drinks, and it started all over again.

This pattern was often called the mid-battle rush among the staff and most of the regulars, and it was this very same pattern which left Andy grateful she didn't have to speak much, except to be polite to the customers and to pass on information to others.

At the end of the 'mid-battle rush', Nathaniel walked into the restaurant, and Andy was the one to meet him at the podium. "Just one?" she asked, and he nodded. "Menu?" He nodded again, and she slipped a menu off the top of the stack. "Booth or table?"

"Booth, please."

She turned quickly and led him to a booth near the corner farthest from the door, and she did her best not to let him see her fear. He took a seat at the booth as if he didn't see anything, and she handed him the menu. "Anything to drink?"

"Green tea, if you would, please."

She jotted this down and said, "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Thank you." She nodded and turned to leave when he added, "Oh, one more thing." He didn't say anything more, and she could hear him cock a gun. The pad and pen fell from her hands to the floor, and she raised her arms without thinking. "That's a good girl, Tanya." Gingerly, Andy turned to face him, and sure enough, she ended up staring down the barrel of a gun, with Nathaniel giving her a very hard, cold glare. "Now, check out and come with me." Wordlessly, a little reluctantly, she walked over to the punch card station, clocked herself out, and followed Nathaniel out the door.

He led her to his giant van, where he pressed a strongly scented cloth to her face. Instinctively, Andy fought for air, and he whispered, "Don't fight. This will all be over soon." Her vision faded, and the last thing she remembered was his voice in her ear again. "You don't need to keep up pretenses anymore."

NTNT

Riley reached for his phone and dialled Tanya's number, waiting patiently until soneone answered, but it wasn't someone he expected. "Hello," a man said. He had a raspy, British voice which sent chills down Riley's spine.

"Is...is Tanya there?" Riley managed.

"I'm sorry. Ms. Howe can't come to the phone at present. May I take a message?"

"I'll...I'll call back later." He hung up, pocketed his phone, and stuffed his laptop in its case, all in record time, and before he knew it, he was in his convertible, weaving through the streets until he reached the mansion he'd visited the previous day. He ran up the walkway and pounded on Ian's door for almost a minute before Powell yanked it open with a harsh, "What the hell dae you want?"

"Tanya," he panted. "Missing. Huge problem."

"Ian, the sidekick's back," Powell called, and Ian walked into Riley's view before the latter could respond to Powell's comment.

"Oh, come in, come in," Ian said, gesturing for Riley to enter. "Something's wrong with Tanya. I was about to call your friends, but here you are."

"She's your sister. Why else would I be here?" He walked into the kitchen, pulled his laptop out of its case, and logged on. Once he was able to, he opened up a program, pulled a cord out of the case, and hooked his phone up to his laptop.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out where whoever answered Tanya's phone answered it from."

"Tracing the call?"

"I called. I don't need to trace myself." The program spit out a list of towers, which was as short as a list could possibly be before being nonexistent: a list of one tower near the present location of Tanya's cell phone. "Dammit," he muttered.

"At least it's a start."

"It's on the highway. They're on the move."

"Where to?"

"Can't tell. I have nothing, Ian."

Ian sighed and shook his head, staring off into space. Riley pulled up another program and typed in a few things. "Looks like they're going north."

"To where?"

Riley sat back and stared up at Ian. "If you knew a vindictive British dude who seemed to know everything and he kidnapped you, where would he take you to get a sick, twisted kind of revenge on your sibling or siblings?"

"The man you're describing sounds a lot like Nathaniel."

"Who's Nathaniel?"

"My father." Ian spat the words out like they tasted like a week-old sauercraut sandwich with stale vinegar for sauce. Riley nodded and raised his eyebrows for a second before relaxing, and he returned to his programs.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Tanya stirred and opened her eyes to nothing but pitch blackness. She could tell she was in the back of a moving van, and she heard an all too familiar voice say, "Well, you woke up more quickly than I expected." She turned her eyes toward the source of the voice, but she couldn't see his face in the darkness. "Well," he added, "it doesn't matter anyway. As long as I have you, this new identity you've forged for yourself will have to fall by the wayside. After all, I won't let you use it. It's not like you're going to escape from me."

"You're a bloody cocky moron," she snapped, and she recieved a harsh kick in the stomach. Her eyes had completely adjusted to a point she could register, and she scanned the van. The windows were covered with black plastic, presumably garbage bags, and the man who'd kicked her was standing as erect as possible given the confines of the van.

"Where's the compass?"

"What compass?"

"Don't think I don't know you sent someone to steal the Viscount's Compass from me. Who did you send, and where is he?"

"Give me a good reason to tell you." For this remark, she recieved another hard kick to the stomach. "I need a better one, Nathaniel. You of all people should know that about me."

"Fine, here's your reason." He pulled out a gun, cocked it, and took direct aim at Tanya's head. "Tell me where the compass is, or you die."

"What's so important about the Viscount's Compass, anyway?"

"The compass points the way, even when all else fails."

Tanya made a mental note of this and shut up, and Nathaniel put his gun back in its holster on his hip. He took a seat on a crate and crossed his legs, and she did her best to roll over onto her back.

NTNT

Over the next several days, Riley and Ian continued their attempts to track Tanya and her kidnapper or kidnappers, depending. Over this time period, they saw both Viktor and Phil walk through the door, and most of the crew was back together.

Five days after attempts started, Riley finally got a solid hit on the location of Tanya's phone, and he shouted, "Yes," throwing his hands in the air. Within seconds, Ian, Viktor, Powell, and Phil hovered around him, staring at the red dot on the screen. "Worked out the last of the glitches and finally found her, or her phone, at least," he said again. "She's in New York."

"Trinity Church," Ian whispered.

"Remember the creepy tunnel inside the tomb? Yeah."

Ian and his three remaining men exchanged glances, and for a moment, there was a really long, awkward silence, which Ian was the one to break. "Well, boys, let's go find my sister."

"Hey, what about me?" Riley asked.

"You can come, too. Now, pack up and be ready. We leave in an hour."

Throughout the next hour, the five men rushed about, packing up everything. Riley found himself finished in half the time allotted, and his phone rang about ten minutes later. "Hello?" he asked.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Poole," the man on the other end said.

"What are you doing talking to me, Mr. President?" Riley asked in a low voice. "I thought you were talking to Ben."

"He told me he passed on the mission to you, that you wanted to have an adventure and beat bad guys."

Riley managed to stifle the gasp that wanted to burst from him as the President uttered the very same words he'd told Ben several days prior. "So why are you telling me this now?"

"I had to undergo long negotiations with Mr. Gates to get to this point, and I have to say you have a very good friend in him."

"Yeah, well..." He laughed for a second before recovering himself.

"So, just out of curiosity, what's your prevailing theory?"

"I think it has something to do with the Howe family." Riley checked the nearest clock, seeing that he had fifteen minutes until he had to leave. "I also think there's something to do with a compass someone I know brought back from England."

"You mean the Viscount's Compass?"

Riley did his best not to allow the chill that the President's words sent down his spine to seep into his voice. "Yeah. I still don't know how special it is, but it most be something important if it's in the Book of Secrets."

"You're a smart kid, Riley."

"Ben rubbed off on me."

"Sounds like. Now, I hope your quest is a fruitful one, Mr. Poole."

"Thanks, Mr. President."

The line went dead, and Riley snapped his phone shut and pocketed it.

NTNT

Tanya paced back and forth along the wall of the church, running the past few days through her mind, seeking out a flaw in Nathaniel's plan besides his cockiness. She had very few possibilities left to her as she paced that day, and it was getting harder and harder to stay focused and not let the panic take her.

Nathaniel watched her closely as she paced, but she struggled desperately to not let that bother her. Finally, when she couldn't take it anymore, she turned to face him and snapped, "Why are you staring at me?"

"Why are you pacing?" Nathaniel replied, though in a more even tone than Tanya had used when she addressed him. "Just let yourself relax and tell me where the compass is."

"First, you tell me what's so bloody important about the Viscount's Compass."

"Oh, you're an insistent one, Tanya. I should've expected this."

"Answer me."

"Very well, then, but as I said, the compass points the way, even when all else fails. That means every time, in every point on the Earth, regardless of the properties there. Just tell me where it is, and you can go free."

"What do you want with it?"

"There are so many things that the Viscount's Compass and the Soldier's Guidebook can be used for, even though the former is much more important."

Tanya's pacing stopped, and she furrowed her brow. "How is it that I have the feeling you can't have the one without the other?"

"I knew you'd say that, but I'm quite certain you're bluffing. The compass is all I need right now. Just tell me where it is and who has it."

"What's in it for me?"

"Excuse me?"

"If I reveal to you who I had sent after the Viscount's Compass and Soldier's Guidebook, then I expect an offer at least equal to what I give you."

Nathaniel raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, toward the edge of the pew he was sitting in. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, so make it good."

NTNT

Riley fished out his phone and texted Ben a request for everything Page 47 said, and he got a three part reply, which he read aloud to Ian and his men. "'Page 47 details the fact that the Viscount's Compass and Soldier's Guidebook,'" he switched to another message, "'are supposed to be used together to find,'" he switched to the third part, "'a treasure beyond all else.' Before you get any ideas, get this: 'No indication of whether it's of any intrinsic value.'"

"Sae what's the point?" Powell asked. "Why have a treasure if it ain't worth anythin'?"

"You can treasure a person."

"Yeah, but that person is worth something to you," Phil replied.

"Even so. If it's a treasure Page Forty-seven is leading to, then it's obviously worth something to a lot of people."

"Good thing Ian had me bring along the book and compass," Viktor said, illiciting a few odd looks from the rest of the people in the car with him, Ian included.

"He's got a point," Riley said, in an effort to break the silence. "We might...we might need those, y'know." This time, everyone's eyes shifted toward him, save Ian, who had to return his attention to the road before he crashed into something, or someone.

"Riley's right," Ian said nonetheless. "We can't allow perfect hindsight to reveal a mistake less-than-perfect foresight failed to reveal before the mistake took place. We need to have all of our bases covered now."

Viktor returned his attention to the window to his left, but he didn't say anything. Powell turned his eyes from Riley to Ian, furrowing his brow, but he didn't say a word, either. Phil just shrugged and fished his iPod out of his jeans pocket, cranking it up so loud it didn't matter if he had the earphones in or not. Everyone in the car could hear it, Riley and Viktor especially.

Riley let his head fall to the window, and he dozed off a little, but avoiding Phil's death metal was much harder for Viktor and Powell. Forcing it out of his mind was perhaps easiest for Ian, and for a second, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he glimpsed Shaw in the passenger seat instead of Powell. I'm losing my mind, he thought, not for the first time, but he teturned his attention to the road, nevertheless.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"What do you want?" Nathaniel asked.

"Hm, it's a tie," Tanya replied, "between my freedom and the pleasure of watching you writhe in agonizing pain as life slips from your grasp."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Not really, not after what you've done."

"What I've done?"

Tanya was saved from having to answer by the sound of a car parking in the parking lot just outside the church. Nathaniel turned to the front door and stood. She saw an opportunity and ran for the door, managing to get out before Nathaniel followed, but follow he did.

Ian leapt out of the van and gestured for Tanya to get behind him. Viktor, Phil, and Powell were out of the van within seconds at a signal from Ian, but it took Riley a little bit longer to get out of the van.

Nathaniel drew a gun and said, "Hand over the compass and guidebook."

"Or what?" Ian asked in the same tone Nathaniel had taken. "You'll shoot me?"

"Or I could shoot your sister or the goofy nerd you brought with you."

"At least he didn't say 'sidekick'," Riley muttered.

Tanya nodded to Viktor, who nodded in response, pulled his bag out of the van, and took off down the street, with Tanya close behind.

Riley looked from Ian to Tanya and Viktor and back again before taking off after them. Nathaniel shouted and followed them, and he in turn was followed by Ian, Phil, and Powell.

Viktor led Tanya to a warehouse, where they slipped inside, followed shortly by Riley. "There's...there's more," Riley panted, fishing out his phone and handing it to Tanya, who glanced at Viktor, who nodded. She read the three most recent messages in the order that made the most sense, from oldest to newest, and looked up finally at Riley, her brow furrowed deeply.

"So is there a point?" she asked.

"That's pretty much what Phil said," Viktor replied.

"So what do you think it means?" Riley asked.

"I can't be sure, to be honest," Tanya said, handing Riley's phone back to him. "Let's have a look at the Soldier's Guidebook." Viktor handed her the Soldier's Guidebook, and she opened it. A lot of the book was typed text about battle formation and tactics which might be useful under certain circumstances, but one of the back pages had a handwritten paragraph on it, which she read aloud. "'What a quandry I have before me, that I should learn the art of faith in another person. What a predicament, indeed, since the Fates seem to decree I march into battle with this other person that they also decree I learn that I must trust, and that we may, if they are cruel enough, build a life together as lovers and ultimately wed. If I refuse his trust, then the battle is surely lost, and my life as well, as my adversary is as ruthless as cunning, but if I should accept what he offers me, then I may surely lose nonetheless, as he may leave, and at a moment when I've nothing else to give, and he has offered nothing to compensate with, nothing with which I may restore what I've given already. Alas, I hear the sounds of my enemy approaching, and the battle is at hand. I've no time to make my choice, but if he saves me, then I suppose he is worth trusting.'"

Someone pounded on the warehouse door, and shots were heard outside as Tanya looked up from the passage. She shut the book and handed it to Viktor without a glance at him; she couldn't tear her gaze from Riley. Riley swallowed and eventually turned his eyes to the concrete floor for a second before bringing himself to meet Tanya's eyes again. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

The door to the warehouse flew open before Tanya could answer, and she made a run for it. Viktor pulled his gun and fired a few shots at Nathaniel, and he was soon joined by Powell and Phil. Riley and Tanya met Ian outside the warehouse, and the latter asked, "Find anything?"

"There's a handwritten paragraph in the back of the Soldier's Guidebook, unsigned, written like a diary entry. It talks about a person's fear of trusting another, and the language is slightly archaic," Tanya replied. Ian glanced from Tanya to the warehouse, where a three-on-one shootout was taking place.

"Now what?" Riley asked.

"You two need to get at least as far as the car. I'll think of something."

"Ian, are you forgetting the chain reaction you set off the last time you 'thought of something'?" Tanya snapped.

"Actually, precisely the opposite." Ian turned his eyes toward Viktor, Powell, and Phil. "I remember everything."

"Then remember the fact that you aren't in a position where you can pick up a gun and start shooting."

Ian turned his eyes back toward his sister. "Who said it was going to be a gun?" He walked over to the warehouse and disappeared into the chaos.

Tanya and Riley exchanged glances before they both redirected their attention to the warehouse shootout. Tanya's vision shifted, and she felt more as if she were in the middle of the insanity rather than watching it.

Without warning, she sent Riley off down the street with a brief, "Call the cops," before rushing off into the middle of the shootout, toward the warehouse. She ducked and dodged bullets as well as she could manage, just as the others in the shootout were at the same time. She could see Ian in the middle of the warehouse, a crowbar in hand, rushing toward Nathaniel, who managed to get himself into a position where he was facing all three of his opponents at the same time.

Ian raised his arm, ready to strike.

Tanya lunged forward in an effort to get out of the crossfire.

Nathaniel tossed his gun aside and ducked, managing in the chaos to kick Tanya out of the way.

She tumbled deeper into the warehouse, and for the most part, the shooting stopped instantaneously, but that didn't mean there was still a bullet in the air. There was, and it found Ian's shoulder.

He clutched the wound and sank to his knees, his head bowed.

Phil threw his gun out of the way and fished out his phone, pressing a few buttons and waiting.

Tanya struggled to her feet and stumbled over to where Ian sat, panting. She looked up from her brother to Nathaniel, who was already out the warehouse door and likely several yards down the street.

Sirens blared, Ian gasped, his eyes wide for a moment, and lowered himself to the floor.

"Stay with us," Tanya whispered, instantly fearing the worst.

NTNT

Riley glanced out the window of the van and could see an ambulance and several police cars racing toward the warehouse and Nathaniel, running the other direction before almost skidding to a stop and taking off the way he came, clearly in a rage.

Riley looked around the van for the keys, which ended up being in the ignition, so he climbed into the driver's seat, turned the van on, and followed the police cars and ambulance.

NTNT

Nathaniel burst through the warehouse doorway and snapped, "Who the bloody hell called for them?"

Phil took a few steps backwards, picking his gun up off the floor and raising it, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Nathaniel drew his own gun and took aim at Phil, his hand much steadier.

Tanya took two steps back, away from Ian's unconscious form, and sank to her knees.

It looked as if someone grabbed Nathaniel's wrist, given how startled he was that his wrist was immobilized. The gun fell from his hand, and he tried to pull himself free.

Tanya, Phil, and Viktor were the only ones to gasp when Shaw's transparent form suddenly appeared, clearly having a tight hold on Nathaniel's wrist. Only Powell remained unfazed.

Phil only stayed standing for a moment after Shaw appeared before passing out on the spot. Viktor, Powell, and Tanya glanced at Phil before returning their attention to Shaw and Nathaniel.

Nathaniel tried to pull away, but despite the fact that Shaw was a ghost, he kept a tight hold on the former's wrist. Nathaniel's eyes widened, and he began to struggle even harder, but still, Shaw refused to let go.

Tanya stole another glance at Ian's body before getting to her feet and taking a few steps toward Nathaniel and Shaw. "What do you want with him?" she asked evenly.

"I want him to stay just long enough for the cops to get here," Shaw replied. He sounded normal, but Tanya just couldn't get over how...ghostly...he looked.

"Freeze, it's the police," someone shouted, and about half a dozen cops swarmed the warehouse, guns drawn and level, swinging them around and waiting for someone to try to shoot them or some such thing. Viktor, Powell, and Tanya all raised their arms, just as another car, a silver van, pulled into the already conjested parking space, and Riley ran into the warehouse, pushing his way past the cops.

"Tanya," Riley shouted. "Tanya."

"Riley, you need to stay back. Just let these nice officers take care of everything."

The leader of the police officers stepped toward Tanya and gestured to the two unconscious bodies and asked, "What happened?"

"Ian was shot, Phil fainted, overwhelmed by the chaos that ensued," she replied evenly, as evenly as when she spoke to Shaw's ghost, who, she noted at that moment, was no longer visible. Nathaniel was rubbing his wrist and looking around for a way out.

"Okay, so who was shooting?"

"Three-on-one between Phil, Viktor, and Powell on one side and Nathaniel on the other."

"Okay. Who started the shootout?"

"Nathaniel," Viktor said. "Ian can't carry a gun anymore. Not for a while."

"And who shot Ian?"

"It was an accident," Powell said quickly. "The shot was meant for Nathaniel. Somethin' happened, and Ian...Ian..."

"I see." He nodded to the other officers, who lowered their weapons, but they still looked around uneasily. They allowed medics to enter the warehouse, and Ian and Phil were carted off on stretchers, which were loaded into the backs of ambulances.

Over the next few hours, the police officers took statements from Viktor, Riley, Tanya, Powell, and Nathaniel, gathered evidence, and eventually dismissed four of their five witnesses. Nathaniel was taken into custody.

While Viktor and Powell climbed back into the van in the parking lot of the warehouse, Riley waited with Tanya as she watched the police car carrying Nathaniel drive off down the road. When the car was out of sight, they walked back to the van Viktor and Powell had gotten into several minutes earlier.

"It's all over now," Riley whispered, just after Tanya climbed into the back seat next to him.

"No, there's more to it. I need a look at Page Forty-seven."

"Why?"

"I just have a feeling."

"Okay. Dunno if that will fly with the President, but okay."

"My instincts are often correct as long as I trust them."

Riley nodded a silent 'okay' and settled back in the seat, turning toward the window, and the rest of the drive passed in awkward silence.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Ian could feel himself losing control of his body, and he could see himself in a pure white room, with Shaw. "What are you doing here?" Ian asked.

"I'd ask you the same question," Shaw replied. "I can tell you want to die right now."

"You're dead."

"Yes, but that's no reason why you should be."

"Why not?"

"It's simple, Ian. I remember when you made me swear I wouldn't leave you, and you believe that, by dying, I've left you."

"So how does that have anything to do with the fact that I shouldn't be dead?"

"I never left. Remember all the times you've seen me around?" Ian nodded, and Shaw continued, "That's me, alright. You're not crazy, and I haven't left you. If you stay alive, you are in no danger of losing me."

"Am I not?"

"No, you're not. Trust me, Ian."

"I do, you know that."

"But you don't trust yourself."

Ian lowered his gaze and licked his upper lip. "It's been hard, Shaw, trying to move on."

"I know. I've seen it. I can't leave you, you know that."

"I know, but I need you. I need you to stay."

"I told you. I never left." Shaw tilted his head for a moment, looking off into the corner of the room. When he returned his attention to Ian, he added, "You need to go."

"Swear to me you won't leave."

"You have my word, Ian."

Ian allowed the room to fade, and for a moment, he contemplated slipping under completely, but then he could feel himself in his own body, hear the monitors beeping around him and the doctors discussing amongst themselves, some with tones of awe, others with disbelief. He could feel the thin sheets and flimsy mattress of the hospital bed.

He gained enough awareness of himself to hear Tanya whispering, "Please wake up, Ian." Almost as if of their own accord, his eyes fluttered open. Tanya sighed and bowed her head.

"No make-up?" he asked weakly.

She shook her head, and a grin threatened to split her face in two, or as far as Ian could tell when she met his eyes. "How was surgery?" she asked.

"I don't remember, so it must've been uneventful."

"I'm pretty sure you were unconscious through all of it."

"That's another worthy explanation."

"So, as far as I can judge, we've got a resident poltergeist."

"Oh? Who?"

"Shaw."

Ian nodded. "I don't think he's crossing over any time soon."

She noticed the slight smile playing across his lips, and she smiled in return. "Looks like he truly is a man of his word."

"Part of the reason why I hired him."

She chuckled, and after that her smile faded. "I'd better go. Looks like you need your rest."

Ian nodded and glanced off to the corner, smiling at the now familiar sight of Shaw's transparent form watching him. Tanya slipped out of the hospital room without attracting any unwanted attention.

NTNT

Riley turned the key in his convertible as Tanya slipped into the passenger's seat and buckled her seat belt. "How is he?" he asked.

"He woke up," she replied. "He actually woke up when I asked him to."

"Finally get him to listen to you, huh?"

"You could say that."

"So, uh, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you trust me?"

She chewed her lip and stared at the scenery outside the windshield. "Yes," she finally said. "I trust you."

"I mean, what with what little I did-"

"You tried. That's more than I can say for most others."

Riley blushed, and Tanya smiled. When he reached her apartment building and parked in the half-empty lot, he gently pulled her close and kissed her on the lips for half a second. "I'll come back tomorrow. I promise."

"I know you will," she whispered, slipping out of the convertible. "I'll see you then."

He waited until she walked into the apartment building before pulling out of the lot and driving over to his own apartment complex.

NTNT

"What'd I miss?" Ben asked when Riley walked into the house he shared with Abigail.

Riley grinned as he set his laptop case on the coffee table. "A lot," he said with a slight laugh.

NTNT

Tanya collapsed on her couch, rubbing her hands up her face until her fingers were fully entwined in her hair. "I really need to see that page," she said. "There's more to it. There has to be. There always is."

One of her hands drifted down to the Viscount's Compass, which she wore around her neck, and after a moment, she opened it. The needle pointed just a few degrees to the right of the tick mark labeled 'N', for 'North'. The inscription on the inside of the lid, 'The Viscount's Compass', was in simple script, more as a label than anything else. "But why is it on the inside?" she whispered.

She shut the compass and stared up at the corner between the wall she faced and the ceiling of her apartment. The mystery of the compass had to be solved another day.


End file.
